


soft offerings for the oft suffering

by akadiene



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 9,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadiene/pseuds/akadiene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets and answered prompts from my tumblr -- mostly Nurseydex, some other stuff thrown in with it.</p><p>Ch. 21: would you mind doing some nurseydex (w some trans dex maybe?) thanks!!<br/>Ch. 22: Fat lardo/shitty "lotion" (intimate but nonsexual please)<br/>Ch. 23: Could you write fat lardo getting kisses on her stomach, I don't care from who!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If there are warnings, they will be before each individual chapter. If you think I should warn for something I haven't, let me know!
> 
> These are my favourites from [my blog](http://www.fatlardo.tumblr.com/tagged/cpwriting) so give me a shout there if ya want. I'll also accept most prompts! 
> 
> Title of this collection is from the Hey Rosetta! song of the same name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: bliss - zimbits
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.fatlardo.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friendly reminder that jack canonically loves maps

 

 

 

 

you’ve looked for this for a long time. 

you’ve got a map on your wall with yellow pins – places you’ve played, arenas where you once thought you’d found it. there are no pins for your doctors’ offices, but maybe they should. they’re a part of it. maybe the rinks and locker rooms are a part of it too. and – samwell. samwell gets a blue pin, because for a while it _was_ it, until it wasn’t. except maybe it still is, even though you’ve gone to settle to a new section of your map. a new yellow pin.

holster once told you that every time you think you’re happy, something else is going to come along and make you even happier, and better, and you’ll wonder how you ever lived without it before. you think maybe at the time he was talking about the new season of parks and rec but –

“sweetheart, why don’t we use green pins for the places we’ve gone together?”

“why green?” you ask, even though you think you might already know your answer. you’ve looked for this – bliss – for a long time.

“because yellow and blue make green.”

you’ve found it.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 'Dilemma'for Dex thanks :))
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.fatlardo.tumblr.com)

“Over.”

“Under.”

“Over.”

“Under.”

“It’s fucking over, Nursey, for fuck’s sake! Stop arguing with me about this.”

Jack enters the living room with his arms crossed and an impressive scowl. Dex thinks maybe he styles his eyebrows on purpose to make his face look more intimidating.

“Go the fuck to bed,” Jack says. Dex also thinks Jack wouldn’t hesitate to maim a man if he interfered with his sleep schedule. “We have practice in the morning. You don’t even live here.”

“Sorry, man, we were just–” Dex begins, attempting to grab Nursey’s arm and pull him away. Surprisingly nimble, Nursey steps out of the way.

“Just having a bit of a debate. A doo-doo dilemma, if you will,” Nursey says.

“I won’t,” Jack says.

“A crap controversy. A potty problem.”

“Jesus fuck, quit while you’re ahead,” Dex hisses. Jack clenches his jaw.

“A commode contestation. A turd tiff. A cubicle combat.”

Sighing, Jack rubs his hands in his face. “Are you done,” he says. It’s not a question. 

“Uh, wait, almost. A restroom row! There.” Nursey smiles. “Got it out of my system.”

Dex wants to sink into the floor. “Who the fuck let you out of your bedroom this morning,” he grumbles. Nursey soldiers on.

“So maybe you can help us, Jack.”

“Will you leave after?”

“Absolutely.” Of course, Nursey is unaffected by Dex’s glare and keeps talking, which he knows is no where near as effective as Jack’s, but he’s been practicing so it’s supposed to be alright. “Do you prefer your toilet paper to roll over or under?”

Jack’s answer is prompt in a way that makes Dex suspect he’s thought about it before. “It’s more efficient if you leave the roll on the back of your toilet and just reach back and get it.”

“Damn.” Nursey looks crestfallen for a moment, and Dex takes the opportunity to grab onto his arm and pull him out of the room.

“Goodnight, Jack, thanks for your help, Jack, we won’t bother you again, Jack,” he mumbles on their way out, ignoring Nursey’s protests.

“He didn’t help us at all!” Nursey cries once they’ve reached the door.

“Nursey,” Dex says, heaving a long-suffering sigh. Because he’s going to be suffering for the next four years, which is practically an eternity. “Wipe your ass with a leaf for all I care. I know I’m right.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 'Mess' for nurseydex please :))

“I’m a fucking mess, William,” Nursey says, though it’s muffled by the fact that he’s got his head on the Haus kitchen table, not quite banging it but thumping gently. “Have you been to my room lately?”

“No,” Will says, “you won’t let me.”

“Exactly. You know why? Because it looks like a goddamn hurricane has passed through it. Me. Hurricane Derek. I’m the hurricane.”

“So clean it,” Will says. He shrugs and goes back to his laptop.

Nursey wails. “Augh! I don’t have time! I’ve got three mid-term projects due before Friday, and four exams next week, and practice tonight and tomorrow, and a fucking obligatory poetry reading Thursday. I barely have time to eat! I don’t even _remember_ the last time I had fruit that wasn’t in pie form,” he says, lifting his head up slightly so his cheek is plastered to the wood instead of his mouth and nose. 

“Well,” Will says, “at least I know you won’t get scurvy.”

“All I want to do is take a nap,” Nursey says. He sighs shakily.

“Okay, listen,” Will says. He snaps his laptop shut and turns to Nurse. “You need motivation, right?”

“Desperately.” Nursey’s cheek is squished unattractively.

“And I’m willing to make a sacrifice for the good of your time management.”

“Oh no. What?”

Will looks around to make sure no one else is near then leans in close. “No sex until you finish everything you have to do, and clean your room. That includes taking out the garbage and changing your sheets. And,” Will continues, smirking now, “no jerking off in the shower. I’ll time you if necessary.”

Nursey gasps. “You wouldn’t!” 

“You sure about that?”

“Fuck.” Nursey sits up and pulls his laptop closer again. “You’re goddamn evil, you know that? Balls of fucking steel, too.”

“I’m taking one for the team. Now get to work, soldier, or else I’ll throw in kissing too.”

“Augh! Okay! Okay!”

Nursey’s tongue sticks out in concentration and his fingers fly so fast over the keyboard Will can barely see them, and Will wonders if maybe he’s made a grave mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://www.fatlardo.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can you do dex/nursey and unintentional cuddling?
> 
> tumblr: fatlardo

Dex and Nursey are fast asleep, thank the Lord. Bitty doesn’t quite know what they would do if they knew that half the team is gathered around their seats in the bus, staring in awe at them, because Dex’s head is on Nursey’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around Nursey’s waist, and Nursey’s got his face pressed to the top of Dex’s head like he’d fallen asleep mid-kiss. 

“You know,” Bitty says, lowering his phone, because the picture is going to make a perfect addition to the end-of-year slideshow he’s got planned, “it might be awful to say, but I never really believed it until now.”

There’s a beat of silence before the others chime in like a chorus.

“Thank fuck, me too.”

“Same.”

“I still have a hard time, to be honest.”

Dex grunts and twitches and they scramble back to their seats.

“I think it’s sweet,” Bitty whispers to Chowder who sits with a thump next to him.

Chowder grimaces. 

“I walked in on them fucking once.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: lips with Nurseydex? thanks!
> 
> tumblr: fatlardo

There’s something beautiful about the before-space, Derek thinks, about the anticipation, the dance they’re doing around each other, the way their hands reach out for each other on their own. It’s like – the moment before an orgasm, before the crest of the hill. Full of potential and tentative smiles and hope. **  
**

“Nursey? You gonna eat that waffle?” Dex asks, a lump in his cheek from a half-chewed strawberry. He’s got –

“You’ve got –” Derek reaches over to wipe away some dripping-red juice from Dex’s lip, letting his thumb linger for a second longer.

He could live like this, in this feeling, if he didn’t want to get to their destination more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Charmer and the word "sweat" <3

On the court Cate sets to March who spikes it hard, barely waiting until the ball bounces before swooping in to celebrate. **  
**

“Is it just me, or is it a bit hot in here?” Chowder asks as they sit again after cheering, frowning.

“No, man. You’re right,” Ransom says, unsticking his shirt from his chest.

Holster just laughs.

* * *

Faber is packed for the last home game of the season, and Chris hasn’t let anything in all night.

“Oh man, I think I’m coming down with a fever,” Cate says, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

March shrugs. “Nah, I’m sweating too.”

April’s cackles rise above the noise of the spectators.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Sweet" nursey/dex

“When I was a kid, these things would always cut the corners of my mouth,” Nursey says. His mouth is stained violet from the freezie and there’s a bit of sugar-sweet juice dripping down his chin, which is frankly fucking obscene, considering they’re in public and also this is Nursey and Dex won’t do much more than stare. **  
**

“Dex? What’s your favourite flavour?” Nursey asks, brandishing a few pops in his hand.

Dex blinks. He’s never thought about it before.

Nursey’s tongue flits out to lick at the coloured drop clinging to his bottom lip.

“Purple,” Dex says. His favourite is definitely purple.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: bittyjohnson "lush" bc everything is so doomed and I want them to come alive together for a minute

The sun beats down almost uncomfortably outside of their little shaded bubble by the pool, surrounded by lush palm trees and drunk octogenarians in fanny packs. Ransom and Holster are splashing around in the water, and Jack’s found a shuffleboard tournament to play in, and Shitty and Lardo are off-resort walking through the town. John looks down at Bitty, who’s in a lounge chair half-dozing in sunglasses with a light smile on his face. **  
**

“Everything is doomed, you know,” John says. He traces a hand around sun-reddened Bitty’s face.

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Bitty mumbles. “Will you get me a daiquiri?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 'slow' for NurseyDex? Thanks I love your writing :))
> 
> CN: implied sex and alcohol

They’ve never fucked like this before. Not without teeth or the smell of rubber and ice or the taste of Jäger or the hard press of a wall. This is like – wading through water, floating in it, or walking through sand warmed by the sun and gritty between your toes. Slow. Languid. Dex pushes in like coming home after a long autumn-Sunday drive and Nursey thinks he could write a thousand sonnets about the moments between breaths, the half-gasp frozen within them. Time stops or – time never existed or – everything outside this cocoon passes by too fast or – he could want this forever.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: If you take prompts could you do nurseydex with never have i ever and them getting together? Thank you!
> 
> CN: alcohol, discussion of sex

Four years. Dozens and dozens of pies. Countless practices. Games. Kegsters. Fro-yo runs. Classes. Lattes. Vlogs. Arguments. Jokes. Songs. Debates. Secrets. Ramen noodles. Reading room retreats. Art shows. Poetry readings. Tweets, snaps, statuses. Teammates. 

And now, it’s all coming to an end. Bitty’s graduating. He’s _graduating._ And he’s _terrified._

Okay, so that’s a bit much. He’s moving to Providence, he’s getting a job, he’s going to take courses in baking and pastry arts at Johnson and Wales. He’s got Jack, he’s got Jack’s team, he’s got his team who’s still going to have his back wherever they are. And he’s got this last weekend with them all, to reminisce and laugh and drink and cry and plan. His parents are flying in tomorrow and the graduation’s the day after, so Bitty is spending one last night with his friends alone. He’s feeling at once nostalgic and hopeful, and his heart is full full full.

So of course, it’s completely appropriate that Shitty’s currently wearing nothing but a jock-strap, swinging around a bottle of Jäger, standing on top of the green couch Bitty’s never actual gotten rid of, calling for a game of Never Have I Ever.

“Classic, bro,” Ransom says as he enters the room with a two-four of Natty Lights in his arms. He and Holster came down, and Chowder even flew in from California because Farmer’s graduating. The East Coasters drove, and Wicky and Ollie are here early too. 

“Fucking good one,” says Holster. Shitty jumps down from the couch.

“Gather round, children!” He plops down on his bare ass and gestures for them to form a rather large circle.

“Do I have to?” Jack asks, but he’s already easing down to sit next to Bitty, a casual arm around his shoulders.

“If you hadn’t wanted to, you wouldn’t have asked,” Shitty says.

“Wise,” says Nursey. They fist-bump. Dex rolls his eyes. Bitty nearly sheds a tear.

“I’ll start!” cries Chowder. “Huh. Ummm. So we drink if we have done it, right? Okay. Never have I ever… sucked a dick.”

“Jesus Christ, C, way to start us off,” Lardo says before taking a swig of White Zinfandel. Farmer winks at her and drinks her own.

Bitty and Jack clink cans gently before drinking, to the team’s wolf-whistles. Holster lets out a loud whoop before taking his shot.

“Who else. Wicky and Whiskey? Cheers,” Nursey says.

“All right there, Dex? Looking a bit red,” Lardo says.

“He’s always a bit red!” from Nursey. Bitty can’t help but laugh.

Holster waves his hands. “All right, all right. Never have I ever had sex in a public place.”

The game continues, often devolving into loud laughter and long tangents filled with drunken story-telling and bad jokes. Bitty is surprised to learn that Chowder and Farmer have had sex in the campus bar’s bathroom, that Ransom has received a foot-job and enjoyed it, that both Shitty and Holster have gotten pegged, and that Ollie has never eaten an orange. That last one wasn’t part of the game, just mentioned in passing, but Bitty is fascinated nonetheless.

When Jack’s gone up to bed, Whiskey, Tango, Ollie and Wicky have drifted away and the rest are what can only be described as shit-faced, Shitty declares he’s got a last one before they can all go pass out, and Lardo gives a half-hearted cheer.

“Shoot,” Bitty says. He himself has revealed quite a bit by this point, and Jack had just looked on, giggling, as their inhibitions lowered with each round. 

“Okay, okay. Never have I ever had a crush on a teammate,” Shitty says, eyebrows raised. “Lardo counts,” he says quickly then finishes his drink. She laughs and finishes hers too. 

Bitty drinks, then looks on curiously as almost every other person left in the circle does too. 

“Really?” he asks, pointing at Chowder.

“Didn’t specify which team, and I used to be a mathlete,” Chowder says. Farmer snorts. “What! She was pretty and smart. You know that’s my type.”

“Awww, adorable. Wish we could still fine you,” Ransom says. “I seem to notice Farmer ALSO drank.”

She shrugs. “Ever watch women’s volleyball? Yeah? Now imagine playing with them.”

“Ooh…” This comes from everyone. Lardo reaches across the circle to high-five her.

“Alright, my mistake. Never have I ever had a crush on a person on this hockey team!” Shitty yells, triumphant. He looks expectantly at Bitty, who laughs and drinks. The world is kind of spinning and his skin feels hot from the booze and he’s thinking about Jack up there in Bitty’s bed, which is going to belong to Tango in three days, so he doesn’t notice when things suddenly go quiet.

“Huh? What did I miss?” he asks, jerking out of his thoughts.

“Um. Ha. Uh.” A strange collection of noises fall from Dex’s spluttering mouth, and Bitty gasps.

“You drank! You drank!” he cries, pointing at him so quickly beer sloshes out of his can.

“Did he ever,” Holster says solemnly. 

“And guess who else,” Ransom adds.

Bitty’s head swivels to where Chowder and Farmer are giggling. “What! Chowder! Who!”

“Not me,” Chowder says, raising his hands in defence. He runs his tongue over his newly-bare teeth – a habit he won’t fall out of for a while, Bitty guesses. “But for the record, Bits, if it had been me, it would probably have been on you.”

“Huh, yeah. Same,” Holster says thoughtfully.

“Actually, yeah,” Ransom says, tilting his head. 

“Oh my goodness,” Bitty says faintly. Then he looks back to Dex, then at Nursey, who is also looking at Dex. “Oh my goodness. It was Nursey. Nursey!”

“Who’d you have have crush on, Nurse? Come on, we’re all comfortable in our masculinity here,” Shitty says, nudging him. “Tell us!”

Nursey looks away from Dex for a second to chuckle awkwardly. “Yeah,” he says. 

“Alright everyone, don’t pressure the man!” Shitty says. “Let him be, I said!”

Lardo rolls her eyes before pushing herself up and holding out her hand to Shitty, who smiles. “Call the cab, loser. Hey, you two. Better come with us.” 

She whistles at Ransom and Holster, who are discussing something quietly, heads bowed, occasionally flicking their gazes towards Nursey and Dex. Watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, Bitty takes it all in. Dex hasn’t quite looked up from his hands yet, and Nursey’s whispering something urgently in his ear, and suddenly, it all makes sense, and Bitty gasps.

“You two! _You two!_ You’re dating? Oh Lord. How did I not know this? I live with you!”

Shitty stops mid-step and turns around, and Ransom and Holster’s heads jerk up. Chowder’s mouth is hanging open. 

“We’re not,” Dex says quietly. “Dating.”

“Yet?” Nursey says, staring once again at Dex. 

“Oh my God. Let’s… Everybody out!” Bitty cries, stumbling as he tries to get up too fast. “Get, get!”

He’s impressed with himself. Drunk Bitty has tact, he thinks.

The next morning he’s awoken by a freshly-showered Jack Zimmermann, who slips into bed and wraps his arms around him. 

“Ugh,” Bitty groans. “I’m never drinking again.” His head is pounding, his throat is dry and hoarse, and his mouth tastes disgusting. 

“Advil and Powerade on the bedside table for you,” Jack murmurs into his sweaty hair. “Good night after I went to bed?”

“I don’t really remember,” Bitty says, voice cracking. “I think so?”

“You guys must have been wasted,” Jack says.

“Uh huh. Why? I mean, we were,” Bitty says, forcing an eye open to look at the clock. It’s not yet nine. His parents are arriving at noon. Plenty of time to re-humanize.

“I walked into the living room, and guess who I find sleeping on the floor, all wrapped up in each other?” 

“Oh my God,” Bitty whispers. He thinks he knows the answer.

“Dex and Nursey. And shirtless! Must have been some gone if they couldn’t even make it upstairs…”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Nurseydex "takeout" c:

The smell of green curry and pad thai precedes Dex’s appearance in the living room, and when he enters with the takeout boxes Derek’s mouth waters. **  
**

“Nice set-up,” Dex says. Derek had dug through their boxes to find a blanket and plates and plastic glasses and a couple tea lights left over from Bitty and Jack’s wedding and laid it all out on the floor.

“It’s a picnic, William,” Derek says. “It’s called romance. Look it up.”

Dex sits with a thump, careful not to displace anything. “I think there’s a cum stain on the corner there.”

“Mm.” Derek kisses him. “Clearly, you’re already an expert.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hi! I love your writing! Could you do Zimbits+12 (things you said when you thought i was asleep)? Thanks!

Eric is floating somewhere, though he’s not sure where. It’s warm, at least, and smells like lemons, which is a bit confusing because he doesn’t usually use lemon-scented cleaning supplies. 

The place is also soft, maybe, or maybe that’s just because he’s floating and not really touching the ground. He can’t really remember how he got here, but it’s pretty nice, if a bit lonely. He strains his ears because he thinks he maybe hears some words, and a deep voice:

“Bits, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.”

Does he have a hand? He doesn’t think so. Silly voice. 

“The doctors are going to bring you to an operating room now, alright Bits? You’ll be fine. They’ll take care of you.”

Of course he’ll be fine. He doesn’t need doctors, does he?

“I love you, and I’ll be right here when you come out.”

Come out, pfft. He wants to laugh because he did that years ago, didn’t he? Anyway, the voice is so nice he doesn’t say anything, and wouldn’t even if he could. He thinks maybe he loves the voice too.

He’s really tired though, so he doesn’t dwell on it, and slips back into whatever space he was in before.

Sometime later, probably, maybe, possibly, he hears the voice again. There’s other voices too, and it’s hard to focus, but if he tries really hard he thinks he could listen. So he does, because he loves the voice, and now the lemon is tinged with lavender, which is, oh, nice and familiar, somehow.

“I’m so glad you’re here. He’s been asking for you in his sleep.”

If Eric could, he’d frown, but he doesn’t think his face is cooperating at the moment. 

“Oh my poor baby, what happened?” The lavender is stronger now, soothing and sweet. He’s feeling a bit cold – he wishes he could ask for a blanket.

“Landed badly on a jump, broke his leg. Had to operate. Doctors put him under for now, he can sleep through the worst of the pain.” The voice – _that_ voice – speaks in short sentences, like _he’s_ in pain. Eric wonders vaguely who they’re talking about – surely not him, because he doesn’t _feel_ hurt. Just a bit cold.

“Jesus H. Gretzky, he looks even smaller than usual,” says another voice – New England accent, he’s heard it before somewhere. Muffled. Well, they all sound a bit muffled, like he’s listening to them through a cotton wall.

Eric drifts away again.

He wakes to more voices, louder this time, clearer.

“You take good care of him, Jack.” Gruff voice, deep, older. Feels like authority.

Wait, Jack? Eric knows that name. He sees a face in his minds eye, and oh, that’s why he loves the voice, because it’s _Jack’s_ voice, and he loves Jack. Things are starting to make sense now.

“I try, sir. He’s usually the one taking care of me.”

He thinks maybe if he tried he could wiggle his fingers now. Not his toes though, there’s something weird about his leg.

“A healthy relationship always goes both ways.”

“Sir–” Jack’s voice starts, but he’s cut off.

“Call me Rich.”

“Uh…”

Eric wants to laugh.

A sigh. “How about Coach?”

“Uh, okay. Coach, sir, I’d like to ask you something.”

“Alright, son.”

A pause. Eric tries to scrunch his nose to no avail, but he’ll keep trying. He feels a bit like he’s wading through water, but thicker. Like molasses. Mm. Molasses.

“I want to ask your son to marry me.”

Maybe he could make molasses cookies when he wakes up, with extra ginger like Jack likes.

“Are you asking me for my blessing?” says the older voice. Coach, that’s right. Coach? Eric’s dad?

“Uh, yeah, I just thought, the Southern thing, you know.”

Bless Jack’s little awkward heart. Eric feels like giggling, and a muscle moves in his jaw. Success!

“Son, I’m giving you my blessing.”

Oh. Oh? Oh. 

Eric _really_ wants to wake up now, but he’s feeling so sluggish from all the concentrating he’s been doing. Jack’ll probably be there later, won’t he? Yeah. He wouldn’t leave. So Eric falls back into sleep, and he thinks maybe now his face is doing what he wants, because he’s pretty sure he’s smiling.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Could you do NurseyDex getting together around Christmas (plus mistletoe)?
> 
> much less christmas or mistletoe than originally intended, but that's the muse for ya. 
> 
> CN: alcohol, trans dex

There was to be a party, Derek’s mom had said when he’d sat down at the kitchen table, still working on his hangover with a bottle of Gatorade and a bag of chips. She’d raised an eyebrow at him because he looked as awful as he felt, his beard already thicker than it had any right to be for him to have just missed one morning of grooming, and the remnants of last night’s eyeliner smudged in a way that was definitely not artistic. 

“A party,” he’d said dully, eyeing her through half-lidded eyes. He should not have funnelled that last beer. Or that first one. Or the three in between, interspersed with those shots of Jäger. And he definitely shouldn’t have declared, at four in the morning, shrouded in smoke in Lardo’s room, that he would sleep on the bus or when he was dead.

“Yes, the 28th. Why don’t you invite one of your friends? Don’t you have – oh, the Knight boy, or the, hm, Zellwegger is it? Zimmer?”

Derek had barely suppressed a snort. Of course his parents would want him to bring Shitty, whose parents had business connections with his and had all graduated from Andover around the same time. Shitty, who would rather face of houseful of lacrosse bros than come to a party like this. And Jack, well, Jack was rich and famous and handsome and nice and definitely not cut out to mingle with New York’s high society, if they had even been close enough geographically and emotionally for Derek to ask him.

“I’ll see,” is all he’d said, and then he’d texted Dex.

* * *

“You did not tell me this was going to be a fancy fucking party,” Dex hissed when he entered the house to find that in the time that Derek had been gone to pick up Dex, the decorators and caterers and florists and musicians and bartenders ( _mixologists_ , he heard his mother correct in his mind) had infiltrated it, and were now bustling around loudly.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re nearly the same size now,” Derek said. Dex squinted at him suspiciously like he knew Derek hadn’t told him on purpose, that none of his clothes could ever hope to be fancy enough for this. “Come on, let me introduce you to my parents before everyone gets here.”

He led Dex through to the parlour where his mother was speaking animatedly to an older woman in a crisp suit and a severe bun. His mother herself was already dressed in a long black gown with a string of pearls at her throat, her hair loose and curled.

“Miriam,” he said, loud enough to get her attention, and Dex furrowed his brows. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Stacia, please excuse me,” his mother said before turning away from the other woman. Her eyes flit to first Derek’s clothes then lingered even longer on Dex’s, before finally looking up and smiling. “Derek. Who’s this, now?”

“Dex, this is my mother Miriam. Miriam, this is Dex. He’s on the hockey team with me.”

“Ah. Dex?” she said, crinkling her nose and holding out her hand.

Dex cast a dark look at Derek before taking it and pasting on a smile Derek knew he usually reserved for media. “William Poindexter, ma’am. Or Will, if you prefer.”

“I wasn’t expecting – oh. There’s the sommelière. Derek, please go and get changed now. Wear an apron or something if you have to eat anything before the party, hm?” She cast a significant look at his clothes again. “I have to – yes, yes, I’ll be right over! Don’t bother your father, he’s in a conference call in his office. Right. William. Lovely to meet you.”

Dex turned to Derek, looking properly bewildered. “Jesus Murphy. You call your parents by their first name?”

“Oh yeah, they hate it, but they gave up trying to correct me a long time ago. My dad’s David, by the way. If I’m feeling extra saucy I’ll call them Dave and Mimi.” He ushered Dex out of the parlour and towards the staircase, stopping to grab the duffel Dex had set by the door. 

“I said no mistletoe!” they heard Miriam say loudly from the kitchen, and Derek rolled his eyes to the ceiling. 

“We’ve got an hour and a half before people get here,” he said once they had ascended the two flights and had pushed the door to his room open. “Why don’t you take your binder off for a bit before you have to put it back on all night?”

Dex sighed. “Yeah, thanks. Huh.” He shut the door and peered around the room, smirking. Derek was fully aware of what his room looked like: sterile, white, blank, empty but for his suitcase overflowing on the floor, his bed unmade and his makeup bag spewing products on his desk. “I expected, like, mini-lights and poetry painted up on the walls. Incense burning, or something.”

Derek was already at his mostly bare closet, sifting through what he’d left behind before moving to Samwell. His best suits, his old Andover track suits, a few shirts that were too small that maybe he could bring back for Tango.

“I haven’t lived here for more than three months at a time since I was eleven,” he said, shrugging. “You should have seen my dorm room at Andover.”

“I’ve seen yours at Samwell, so I’ve got an idea.” Dex pulled off his hoodie then his shirt while Derek turned away for him to remove his binder. It wasn’t anything he’d never seen before, not really, but his room was smaller than the locker rooms, the space between them thinner, more intimate somehow. Anyway, he didn’t want to do anything that might annoy Dex and tip over the precarious balance they managed in the past few months, especially not today. “Oh, that feels better. Ugh, so I’m going to have to wear a monkey suit on top? With a tie and everything?” 

When Derek looked at Dex he saw just a flash of freckled stomach-skin before it disappeared back under his t-shirt. 

“If you’re not nice, I’ll make you wear a bowtie. Anyway, there’s an open bar, so you really I’m doing you a favour.”

“I won’t appreciate anything they’ll serve me beyond its alcohol content.”

Derek laughed. “That’s all that matters, anyway. Wanna watch some Friends before we have to go down? Since you’re in New York, and all.”

They settled down side by side on his bed and Dex opened his laptop.

“I prefer Seinfeld,” he said. Derek just smiled and booted it up.

* * *

Derek had, again, made a mistake. Okay, no, many mistakes. Chief among them was the drinking game he and Dex had come up with twenty minutes into the party, though there was also mistake of invited Dex to the city in the first place, and then giving him his best and most expensive suit to wear, citing size as his reason, but mostly because he knew Dex would look damn fucking good in it. He wasn’t wrong. 

But yeah, drinking game. Drink every time someone tried to casually pass off knowing someone famous – _oh, I was just having lunch with Katie Holmes the other day and she said something really interesting_ – every time Derek was referred to as “the young Mr Nurse” which made Dex crack up without fail, every time someone asked Dex who his parents were, every time someone used the word _summer_ as a verb, every time the name Hillary Clinton came up. By the end of it, they were so drunk they just began drinking whenever anyone did anything particularly pretentious, and their standard became more and more vague as time went on. 

“We’re raising our son Cortland to be vegan,” they overheard one woman say to Miriam, and they immediately caught each other’s eyes and drank.

When the mayor strode in, they clinked their glasses and finished their champagne.

When Dex was finally introduced to Derek’s dad and David instinctively leaned in kiss his cheeks in greeting, Derek laughed so hard his wine shot through his nose.

When an old man in a blue pinstripe suit mistook Dex for an acquaintance’s son and Dex began a very serious conversation about banana imports, it was all Derek could do to stay upright. Thankfully, Dex just handed him his glass full of rye with a wink and steadied him with a hand on the small of his back. 

The waiters milling about must have caught on eventually, and though they didn’t say a word or even gave them any significant looks, the drinks were more forthcoming at the end of the night than at the beginning, and once one small waitress handed them each a bottle of sparkling water with a nod.

‘You are being very loud, Derek,” Miriam said, cornering them near the bar where they were in the process of assigning lavish backstories to the various guests.

“Mimi!” Derek cried. “Lovely party, darling. These hors-d’oeuvres are to _die for._ Is this caviar gluten-free?”

“ _Derek_!”

“It’s all right, Mrs Miriam, I’ll get him to bed,” Dex said solemnly, already putting his arms around Derek to leave him to the staircase. Derek was very warm, and desperately wanted to take his jacket off, and _Dex’s_ jacket off, and God, had the stairs always been this steep and _slippery_? Had his room always been so far away? Had Dex’s arms always been so big?

“Nursey,” Dex whispered or maybe yelled in his ear once they were close to the top, “did you ask me here just to piss your parents off?”

Derek giggled. “No, but that was a fun bonus, wasn’t it?”

Dex pushed open the door and manhandled Derek to the bed. “Stay,” he said.

“Woof,” Derek answered. It was not his best joke, but he laughed anyway.

“Hold out your arms to the side,” Dex instructed, and began the painstaking process of undressing Derek, who was aware he was being a pain, but couldn’t quite be assed to fix it.

“You know, when I imagine you undressing me for the first time, it didn’t really go like this,” Derek said petulantly when Dex was on his knees untying his shoes. 

“Really?” Dex said, barely pausing to look up. “When I did, I imagined more vomit.”

“Hey!” He crossed his arms over his chest, momentarily distracted by the feel of the hair there against his arms. He wondered what it would feel like to have Dex’s arms there. “Are you insinuating you’d throw up if you saw me naked? Because you have, and you didn’t.”

That was a very good point, he thought triumphantly. Dex was pulling off his shoes now. 

“No, Nursey, that’s not what I meant. Just thought, if ever– oh, nevermind. Undo your pants yourself, would you?”

Derek dropped his arms as fast he could. “Hope that’s not what you tell the other boys,” he said, fingers slipping over the buttons clumsily. Probably someone had glued his pants shut, he thought. 

“Oh let me, let me. Move your hands.”

Derek wasted no time in following those orders. 

“Aha! You _do_ want to take my pants off.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Dex paused in his work – his fingers definitely weren’t working so great either – to feel around for, oh, a bottle of water, which he twisted open and handed to Derek. “Drink _all_ of it. I don’t – you’re drunk.”

“Well, so are you.”

Dex had pulled Derek’s pants down to his ankles with a sigh, and Derek grinned widely.

“Get your suit off,” Derek said, “you must be so uncomfortable. It’s hot in here.”

“We are not having sex,” Dex said. And whoa-ho-ho, Derek had never outright said the word sex, had he? No, definitely not. He would have remembered that. 

He pursed his lips. “I’m looking out for your well-being, William. I’ll even turn around, look.” Well, sort of. He begun to turn but got caught in his pants around his ankles and settled for twisting his waist away.

Dex snorted. “Don’t bother. I’m sleeping shirtless.”

Derek gasped and whipped his head around. Dex was already undoing his tie. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, sounding very sexy to his ears.

“Get in bed, you idiot,” Dex said.

“Mm, call me that again, babe.”

“Gladly.”

Derek struggled with getting into bed – the sheets had conspired against him, he was sure, and besides, there was just so much mattress compared to his bed at Samwell that it was a bit overwhelming. Also, Dex was undressing in front of him, which would have distracted him on any number of better days.

“You’ve got freckles all over,” Derek observed. Dex raised an eyebrow as he finally pulled down his pants. 

“Thank you, I hadn’t noticed.” 

The light was off now, which must have been Dex but Derek hadn’t been paying attention, and then suddenly there was a dip in the mattress and a draft of cooler air under the blanket as Dex settled himself. 

“Mm. Can you big-spoon me?” Derek said, sighing contentedly. 

“You’re assuming an awful lot,” Dex said. Somehow Derek was sure he was rolling his eyes.

“Well, are my assumptions wrong?”

Now it was Dex who let out a long exhalation.

“No,” he said quietly. Derek felt one of Dex’s arms wrap around his waist and the other insinuate itself underneath his pillow and it was better than he’d hoped. He smoothed his hands over Dex’s forearm, pressing back against his chest. It was a very nice feeling, skin-on-skin, breath-on-neck, hands-in-hand. He felt like every sensation was increased a million times over by – whatever, the alcohol, maybe. 

“Sorry I made you come to this stupid party,” he said, turning his face a bit even though he couldn’t see Dex in the darkness.

“It was fun after all,” Dex said, tucking in his chin between Derek’s shoulder and neck. “Tomorrow, though, we are going to like, talk about this and your parental issues and stuff.”

“Ew. You hate talking.” Derek laughed. “But all right. We can do that, I guess. Brunch is at eleven, by the way.”

“Brunch,” Dex said. “Fucking brunch.”

“There’ll be mimosas.”

“Don’t even mention champagne right now. Fuck.”

“Okay. Um. Goodnight, Dex.”

Derek’s eyes were already being pulled down by the alcohol, his body slipping into sleep, but he was sure he felt Dex’s lips press against his neck before he heard the next words.

“Goodnight, Derek.”

Derek fell asleep with a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well now i'm just being silly
> 
> hashtag team attic

you’ve lived in the house for years. you know there are other people in it, but you’ve never met them – you’ve got your space, half of the attic, and there’s an enclosed staircase that leads down to the basement where no one ever goes, and a door that goes outside. rent is cheap, and has always been cheap – you don’t think it’s gone up since 2004. really, you’re all right with being alone. the walls are thin, anyway, and sometimes you can hear the tenants in the other half of the attic laughing or singing or having sex or watching TV and so that’s nice. you work nights at the grocery store anyway, so it doesn’t bother you when they have parties. it’s mostly quiet. you’ve got a little bunsen burner and a toaster oven, a mini-fridge, in the past couple years you’ve had wi-fi, a minuscule bathroom – it’s all you need. really, it is. your landlord is nice enough, and fixes things when you need. you’ve got plants to take care of, and friends from work. you’re fine with keeping to yourself. you’re happy.

until one night, when you’re on your way down the stairs for work. the door to the basement is hidden behind some storage, and the bulbs down here have been burnt out for ages, so at first you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. and then you step out. and see, to your shock, a group of men gathered around – the water heater? they’ve got their phones out, illuminating something on the wall, and their backs turned to you, so you try to sneak out quietly. you can hear their voices – the main one, the one that’s the loudest, is southern and rapid. there’s a couple others that chime in often, deep and warm, and one higher pitched, with an accent – mexican, you think – who asks a lot of questions. that’s the voice that interrupts your slinking away, and you jump.

“hey! who is that?” the boy says, and you bite down on a curse. slowly, the men gathered turn to face you, and you blink in the sudden light.

“what the fuck,” says the tallest, who is built like a brick wall and is shockingly blond. the one standing next to him, who is still tall and wide but slightly less so, just gapes.

“uh, i, um,” you stutter, “i just, uh, live in the attic. i was just leaving so…”

there’s a beat of silence, and then you run out to the sound of screams.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no prompt, just some shit i had to get out of my head

it’s kind of like – okay. so derek knows it’s ridiculous. because dex is, well, dex. but it’s kind of like he’s taken dex’s body – big, tall, wide, strong, hard, square – and filled it in with _what ifs_ and _maybes_ and _what could bes_ , just closed his eyes tight and poured them all in there and hoped that in the end dex would notice the intrusion. because derek believes in vibes, right? and karma, and fate, and himself. if he thinks it all hard enough, maybe it’ll come true. (dex believes in – coincidence. and CNN. but like, whatever, right? that’s not – he doesn’t need his confidence in order to validate his own.) anyway at faber when they skate now it’s easy to forget that dex isn’t actually made up of derek’s wishes. 

(destiny and fate aren’t the same thing really but he’s starting to not care about the difference, not since that time at the NCAA recruitment camp when he first skated with dex and accidentally fell on his stick and broke it, which is like, the most embarrassing meet-cute of all time, and also wasn’t so much as _cute_ as _okay this guy hates me now.)_

good thing derek isn’t afraid of much except karmic retribution, and better thing dex pretends the same minus that last bit, so when ransom and holster says they’ve got to continue on with the d-man tradition (something derek could start believing in, he guesses), they accept their dibs with a firm handshake. bitty’s already talking about creating a sub-bylaw about fighting in the attic and how it relates to pie privileges and chowder’s close to tears. 

and then dex looks at him with something like a smile – _maybe maybe maybe_ , derek thinks – and says something about taking the top bunk in case derek falls on him when he inevitably rolls over in the night. derek says, yeah, sounds good, and thinks _what if what if what if_ – could they fit a double in there?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: could you please do nurseydex for "zero fucks given. next please.", "cross that. don't answer that.", or "you look like an accident"? --b.
> 
> surprisingly no porn in this, despite what the opening paragraph may lead you to believe

It’s not that Nursey has a handyman kink, it’s just that Dex always looks incredibly hot when he’s fixing things. Even the grossest of things – like that time he had to get a plumbing snake to pull out all of Shitty’s hair from his and Jack’s shower, or that time he pulled out the oven to find a ridiculous amount of food and flour back there, or that time Lardo’s station wagon developed a smell and Dex had opened the hood to find a dead squirrel tucked in the mechanics of the engine. It’s just that Dex gets incredibly concentrated – his tongue peeks out in a flash of pink, his fingers are so competent in what they’re doing it’s like they’ve got a mind of their own, his eyes squint to look at whatever it is he needs to see – and it’s a good look for him. Really good. So Nursey likes to watch. And if seeing Dex like that maybe gets him hot a tiny bit, then so be it. Dex doesn’t complain, not after he’s done when Nursey finally gets to have him.

Okay, so he might have a handyman kink. Whatever. 

This time though, this time it’s less hot (okay, still a little hot), and way more hilarious. There’s something about the shelf Bitty’s asked him to put up in his room that is just not cooperating, which Dex has said about a hundred times. Because he’s been talking to himself. And the shelf. For the better part of an hour. And Nursey, like the loving boyfriend he is, has been watching with barely concealed amusement the whole time.

“ _Fuckgoddamnjesuschristonastickgoddamn_ ,” Dex hisses, more or less. It’s been a non-stop stream of expletives under his breath since he began, and Nursey can’t stop laughing.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Nursey says from where he’s sitting cross-legged on Bitty’s bed. “Mmmm. That’s the stuff.”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Dex says through the screw in between his teeth. Nursey is delighted.

The shelf is being held up by one of Dex’s forearms while he wrestles with his drill with his other hand. Nursey’s got a wonderful view of Dex’s back muscles, because Dex is wearing one of Nursey’s tank-tops with the big arm holes. 

“Oh, fuck, hey, babe?” Nursey says very seriously. Dex jerks his head around, eyes wide, and Nursey paints on a concerned face.

“What?” Dex asks. A bead of sweat drips down the back of his neck. 

“I just, I almost forgot.”

“What, Derek.”

“That you’re supposed to be good at this, aren’t you?”

An almost inhuman noise rips through Dex’s mouth as he turns away from Nursey, who is already crying from laughter.

“No, no wait. Scratch that. Don’t answer that. Here’s a better one: do you wish you didn’t have to put this up… all by yourshelf?”

“Please leave. I will literally pay you to leave.”

Nursey jumps up from the bed and walks over to Dex, who has closed his eyes tightly and seems to be taking very deep breaths. 

“In sexual favours?” Nursey leans in close, but not too close. He’d really not like being hit over the head with a power tool.

“Good-fucking-bye,” Dex says instead of answering, opening his eyes and staring resolutely at the shelf. He doesn’t protest when Nursey kisses his cheek and skips away, and Nursey closes Bitty’s door gently and decides to go down and see if there are any cookies left.

He doesn’t get very far at all when he hears a loud crash followed by an even louder _FUCK!_

Bitty’s head pops out of Lardo’s room. “What just happened?” he asks slowly.

“Looks like an accident,” Nursey says, laughing already.

“You look like an accident!” Dex yells from the room.

“I was born via in-vitro!” he calls back, though he’s not sure it’s even understandable through his uncontrollable cackles.

“Oh my goodness. Dex, it’s really not that important! I can live without the shelf!” Bitty says to the door. Smart man, Nursey thinks, not to open it.

It swings open anyway, with Dex in the doorway breathing hard, eyes flashing. “No. I will put this goddamn shelf up, so help me God.”

“Uh, okay…”

Nursey snorts. “You show that shelf who’s boss, babe. I believe in you!”

Suddenly, Dex’s mouth drops and his eyebrows raise. “Oh, shit,” he says forcefully.

“Huh? What, everything alright? I mean, aside from the obvious.” Nursey gestures to the room behind Dex.

“Fuck, it’s just. I forgot.”

“What, what?” Bitty asks before Nursey can slap a hand to his mouth. He groans instead.

“I forgot to tell Nursey he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Like hell I am, William! I bought the bed!”

Before he can get any further, the door slams in their faces, and Nursey dissolves into laughter and tears, while Bitty looks on bewildered. 

“I will never understand you two,” he says softly, as if to himself, shaking his head.

Nursey looks up from where he’s fallen onto the floor and grins. 

“You know what, Bitty?”

“No, what?”

“Hard to believe, but he’s just really good with his hands.”

There is a beat of silence, then:

“OH MY GOD SHUT UP!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompts:  
> dexnursey one of them speaking another language casually and the other being absolutely floored. also your writing is fab, hope you're having a good day!!
> 
> and
> 
> benediction - NurseyDex :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one may disappear from this collection one day, if only because I'm thinking of expanding it. It's also pretty personal. If you want to chat about Acadian diaspora, accents, culture and language fucking hit me UP
> 
> tumblr @ fatlardo

“Ouais. Mhm. Okay. Ouais. J’t’aime aussi, Mémére. Dit à Pépére – mhm. Bye.” Dex ends the call and rolls his eyes – his Mémére is worrying about him getting sick in the winter, as usual. **  
**

Dex looks up to see Nursey gaping at him and feels himself blush. Fuck. Only Jack knows he speaks French, because he’s embarrassed of his accent, and doesn’t want to get chirped.

“Uh. Yeah. My grandparents are Acadian. Live near the border,” he says quickly. 

Nursey swallows, eyes wide. “Dex. Dex.”

“What.”

“You know I’m Haïtian, right?” Nursey says. “My mom. She’s a LeBlanc.”

“Shit,” Dex whispers. They stare at each other. “Mine too.”

* * *

 

Dex’s grandmother insists Nursey call her Mémére and his grandfather Lee-oh-nel and Nursey stumbles a bit on both words at first, only remembers how to shape his mouth through a thick fifteen year old fog that began to cloud his mind when his own grandmother died. With her, the words. At least, he thinks, at least his mother always rolled her Rs so he hasn’t lost that. It’s – he’s surprised at how painful it is to feel that first rrrr fall off his tongue. Like it’s being ripped out, like it had built a cocoon deep inside his mind and never had planned to come out. It’s – he’s surprised at how selfishly angry he feels that Dex got to have this and Nursey didn’t, and could have, and that Dex never shared with anyone beyond Jack, because he could have been learning for three years, or his whole life, even. It’s–

After supper Mémére gives him books which are mostly in English about Acadian history and families and she wraps him up in an afghan with a cup of orange pekoe. Dex goes out to haul some wood into the basement for the upcoming winter before they have to go back to Samwell tomorrow.

He says, “Mémére, would’t it be funny if we were related?”

She says, “Oh, you know, we probably are.” 

He thinks she’s knitting Dex his own blanket, because she’s asked them about the attic being “winterized” about ten times. He doesn’t remember much about his grandmother – doesn’t even remember what he used to call her. He and his Mama immigrated when he was four.

“A lot of the Whites, you know? Like people whose last name is White? If you go back a lot of them are actually LeBlanc,” she says. Her accent isn’t very strong, but she says it’s because she’s been living in the States for near on forty years.

Nursey looks up. “What? Like, their names got anglicized?”

She frowns. “Well, not just their names. For survival, and all that. There’s more. A lot of Perrys would originally be Poirier. Burke, Bourque. Tons.”

He feels like he’s standing on the precipice of a cliff and once he opens these books he’s going to fall right into it. Or maybe he started falling, like, when he first found out about Dex, and it’s been slower-going, or the fall is just long and winding. Like Wonderland. But with more identity crises. Did Alice ever wonder how different her life would have been if she had grown up speaking Welsh along with English? 

Anyway. He’s not sure his heart can handle the fall and or the stopping of it. He doesn’t know enough words in French to write it all down yet, and Duolingo doesn’t really teach you how to rhyme. It’s all a bit – much. There’s a lot to unpack. He reads the introduction of one of the books and has to stop at the words _cultural genocide,_  reaches for a book on genealogy instead. He’ll read the other one later – he feels he has to, now – but he can’t yet. There’s a fire in the stove and molasses cookies on a plate on the coffee table.

Actually, Nursey feels fucking blessed – _une bénédiction_ – because once he gets passed the weird linguistic knot – _un_ _nœud_ – his tongue and stomach and heart is dealing with, he gets to have this Dex –  William – _Guillaume_. This whoever he is share this with their whatever this is, and Nursey’s feeling whatever he’s feeling. He doesn’t think there’s a word, French or otherwise, that could accurately describe the way he feels like he’s going to burst when Dex tell Lionel and Mémére _bonne nuit_. Awe, pride, lust, the moment when you’re nine and your best friend says _can you keep a secret_? And you say _yes of course_ and you keep it close. He can almost understand why Dex never told anyone. 

When everyone is asleep and Dex is in his mom’s old bedroom and Nursey’s on the pull-out couch in the guest room, he pulls out his phone and uses up his data looking for French courses in the city. 

Mémére tells him to take the books back with him, and he optimistically tells her he’ll find time to read something before Christmas break. She kisses both their cheeks and Lionel shakes their hands and nods. 

“Let’s get on the road,” Dex says. He hoists their duffle bag up on his shoulder.

Nursey looks down at the stack of tomes in his hand and swallows. 

“Yeah. Let’s.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: angst nurseydex

he’s begun to tell time by feeling instead of numbers. five-thirty used to be “william i’m home” and now it’s mostly just “i miss you” and wouldn’t you know it, it’s five-thirty all the time (save two am, which starts around eleven’s “i can’t sleep without you” and goes until “fuck”). his editor won’t even look at his latest stuff until he relearns to “cool it with the teenage angst jesus christ derek”, so ten in the morning. ten-fifteen becomes “is it too early for bailey’s in my coffee”. ten-twenty: “who even cares anymore”.

his kitchen clock stops ticking. he doesn’t replace the batteries.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: bittyholtz, sweater
> 
> CN: aftermath of sex

“Fuck,” Holster says as Bitty rolls off him, both wincing when his dick slips out of Bitty’s ass. He’s panting, and smiling, and sticky, and his heart is still beating fast. **  
**

“Mm.” Bitty seems unable to say more or even open his eyes as he grapples blindly for Holster’s hand, squeezing his fingers when they touch.

“Holster,” Bitty says eventually, and Holster looks beside him to see Bitty grimacing.

“Hm?”

“I think we’ve made a mistake.”

Holster sighs. “Hey, no, we’ve talked about this, remember?”

“No, not that.” Bitty shifts, pushing his hand underneath his back and twisting to pull out –

“HOLTZY! HAVE YOU SEEN MY SWEATER?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "stars" & Lardo/Jack (platonic) (Their friendship means so much to me)

The Haus is filling up, the walls are pushing in, and Jack’s breathing is beginning to stutter when Lardo takes his hand and pulls him upstairs, through to his room and out the window. He’s known her all of a week, so he doesn’t know how she knows to bring him here, but it’s his first Haus party as a resident and the whole thing is making him anxious, so he doesn’t ask.

“Hey,” she says softly, pulling him down to sit. Tucks herself under his arm. Points up at the sky, clear and sparkling. “Come on, count them with me.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: would you mind doing some nurseydex (w some trans dex maybe?) thanks!! 

The card wishes Dex a _Happy graduation!_ in green glitter. **  
**

“Come on,” Nursey says, biting his lip so it blooms red and distracting in the sunlight, “open it.”

 _May all your dreams come true_ , the inside says, followed by _August 16th, 2018_ and a heart in Nursey’s messy scrawl.

“I don’t get it,” Dex says.

“Um.” Nursey takes a breath. “My parents have a friend of a friend. A surgeon. It’s a consultation.”

Dex’s eyes jerk away from the card to meet Nursey’s.

“For…” He gestures to his chest. His throat feels tight and his cheeks warm, and Nursey is smiling smiling smiling.

“Yeah,” Nursey says. Dex kisses him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Fat lardo/shitty "lotion" (intimate but nonsexual please)

“Ow, Jesus, fuuuck.” It’s been a steady litany of this since they got home this afternoon and Shitty discovered that his shoulders had burnt to a crisp during their time at the beach. Lardo rolls her eyes and Shitty winces as he reaches for the aloe vera lotion on the top shelf of the bathroom closet.

“Come here,” she says, hopping up on the counter. He backs up between her legs and leans into her. The aloe is cool in her palm and he hisses when it touches his skin.

“What did I do to deserve you,” he says faintly.

She laughs. “Stand still, and you’ll get to keep me.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Congrats on 500 followers! Could you write fat lardo getting kisses on her stomach, I don't care from who!
> 
> CN: aftermath of sex, shitty/lardo

Shitty’s looking at her like she painted the sky and the stars when she comes down from her orgasm, and she falls back on her elbows so she can see him over the swell of her breasts.

“God Lardo, you’re so good,” he says, and crawls up slightly to press his lips to her stomach. It’s a weird feeling – his mustache is scratchy and wet, but it’s such a Shitty thing, she doesn’t want him to stop.

“Didn’t do anything yet,” she says once her panting has stopped.

“Doesn’t matter.” He kisses her skin again, all over her belly, up her ribs, her nipples, her neck. “You’re perfect.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Zimbits - bitty still thinks Jack is straight but he's buzzed and he's a bit of an affectionate drunk !!!

Jack’s having something of a hard time. Bittle is – warm. Drunk. Hitched on Jack’s back like a school bag and holding on tightly. And his breath is hot against Jack’s neck, and Jack has no choice but to hold him up under his butt lest he fall to the ground, which is… good. But difficult.

“It’s not fair,” Bittle slurs into his ear. “It’s like… Romeo and Juliet. Except the Capulets are all gay and the Montagues are straight.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Bittle,” Jack grinds out. Bittle’s legs are so nice around his waist. “And they die in the end.”

“Augh!” Bittle wails. “Exactly. It’s tragic.”

Jack’s having a _really_ hard time.


End file.
